


Fresh Meat

by bailey1rox



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe
Genre: Amputation, Anal Sex, Arkham Asylum, Biting, Canon/OC - Freeform, Dry Humping, Dry Sex, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Latex, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, art therapy, dick violence, technically???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24266710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bailey1rox/pseuds/bailey1rox
Summary: A new, mysterious rogue is added to Arkham's lineup sporting long hair and an unexplained muzzle.
Relationships: Harvey Dent/Original Male Character(s), Jonathan Crane/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 17





	Fresh Meat

**Author's Note:**

> DeSign is my oc for my blog, Young Rogues AU. I love him please don't be mean this is my first upload. It's faster paced than my usual work

The inmates watched as familiar guards walked with an unfamiliar face. It was a new prisoner - fresh meat.  
The man didn’t look like he’d last a second in the house for the criminally insane. He was short and thin, easy to lift; had long, red hair, easy to grab and pull; and he had a figure that made him look like a girl from behind, something that can put him at risk in a prison where many men haven’t been out for years. His hips swayed as he walked, a bored look on his young face - long eyelashes shadowing bright eyes. There was something about him, all the rogues could tell - was it how unenthused he looked? How young he appeared compared to the regular inmates? Or perhaps it was the muzzle strapped to his face? Hungry eyes traced his body with varying intentions as he disappeared with guards behind a door to be prepared for prison life.

\--

Jonathan Crane arched a curious eyebrow as the stranger was let into his cell by a guard.  
“Consider yourself lucky we agreed not to put you with the Croc” The guard grunted roughly, not being delicate at all as the man's handcuffs were removed and the door slammed shut. He turned around to see his new roommate, looking as bored as ever “Oh, Mister Scarecrow. Hello”  
“Good evening. When out of costume I much prefer to keep a professional appearance, so please, call me Doctor”  
“Oh? In that case you can call me Doctor too,” The stranger shimmed his shoulder with a playful attitude, smiling through his muzzle.  
“You don’t look old enough to have earned that title” Jonathan sat up with a hunch, his long and bony finger marking the page on his book. The other let out a knowing laugh, looking like a child who won’t tell a secret.  
“You’re too kind, Doctor,” He eyes the other man, taking in his appearance despite the poorly lit environment. Jonathan was very tall and disconcertingly thin, his skin dry and creased with age. Blue eyes hid behind the circle frames of his glasses and his gaunt face was framed by unkempt, greying red hair. He looked as if he was in his 50s, but was just aged by his lifestyle. He maintained interested eye contact with the new inmate “Well if you won’t call me Doctor, you can just call me DeSign.” DeSign held out a hand for the other to shake, but Jonathan merely looked at it.  
“Why the muzzle?”  
“It’s a fashion statement”  
Jonathan took pause as he studied the muzzle before grinning - his teeth sharp and stained “I guess I’ll have to figure it out for myself, hm? I suppose it’ll keep things interesting.”  
“I’m an expert at keeping things interesting, Doctor” DeSign winked before ascending the ladder of the beds “I guess I get top bunk? Good thing I’m not scared of heights”  
The rouge opened his book up as he watched the shapely legs disappear from his sight “Oh, we’ll see about that.”

\--

At lunch, DeSign sat alone. His muzzle was still on but his food was solid, making it humiliating to eat it in the large cafeteria - he wasn’t all that hungry anyway. He watched as a figure approached him, question marks drawn all over the orange coveralls.  
“Well well, so you’re the fresh meat? Why, you don’t look like you could hurt a fly” Edward Nygma had an aura of pompous confidence. DeSign looked up with a smile - he knew who the Riddler was.  
“Same with you, Mister Riddler. Maybe if we worked together, we could successfully take a single fly down” His comment made Eddie frown, a few inmates who had heard letting out small laughs as they ate.  
“Watch it, boy! It’s unwise to make enemies on the first day”  
“You’re the one who antagonised me first. Want respect? Give respect.”  
“Likewise, Mister-”  
“Just DeSign, Mister Riddler” He smiled kindly at Eddie’s grimace. The Riddler didn’t like the new man, but he couldn’t help but find being called ‘Mister Riddler’ somewhat endearing.  
“Alright, DeSign. Answer my riddle correctly and I’ll lay off - I can be your new friend in Arkham! So tell me, the person who makes me has no need for me; the person who buys me has no use for me; but the person who uses me can neither see nor feel me. What am I?” Onlookers watched as the Riddler questioned DeSign - they knew things would get hard for newcomers who answered wrong; Eddie could get violent both physically and psychologically, often tearing weaker rogues down with his sharp words.  
DeSign tapped a plastic fork against the wire of the muzzle “You’re a coffin, Mister Riddler” he grinned, genuinely looking like he was having fun. The other rogues had never had fun with Eddie’s riddles before, so he couldn’t help but beam with pride at the correct answer.  
“Why yes! Good job, clever little boy. Keep that up and you’ll have someone to watch your back”.  
Those around them weren’t overly interested but they were indeed surprised - usually, Eddie was harder on people, but he seemed to have taken a liking to DeSign once he spoke to him just a little. Several men also found themselves endeared to the man despite not talking to him - rogues like the Mad Hatter and the Ventriloquist finding the calm presence a nice change from the often hostile environment.

\--

Through several days, DeSign continued to endear others. While his roommate still very much had a brick wall between the two, Edward and Jervis often chose to sit with him during free time. Many were confused as to why he was there and more importantly, why he was wearing the mask.

“He looks like he’d go all psycho bitch when you turn on him” Harvey growled as he looked at the redhead talking to the short hatter.  
“What? Nah, just look at him. He’s a weak little faggot, progagly just gutterin’ the easy ones up to save his own gack” Scarface’s lisp butchered his words, the puppet laughing from Arnolds lap and causing the greying man to gasp.  
“Mister Scarface you shouldn’t say that-”  
“Zip it, dummy!” The puppet snapped, the fake cigar in his mouth wobbling slightly. “The kid looks like he’d glow a guard for grand name toothpaste!”  
“Can’t suck anyone off with that mask” Harvey let out a raspy chuckle, poking at his overcooked eggs.  
“I reckon he’s a cannibal! You’ve seen how the guards handle him, get that mask off and he’ll eat a finger!” The white faced clown giggled loudly, slapping Harvey on the arm playfully. “Whaddya think, Straw Boy? You’re his bunking boyfriend”  
Jonathan sighed and adjusted his glasses “I still haven’t been able to deduce what crime he committed, but I sense no ill intent in him. He’s honestly quite friendly and pleasant to converse with,” He was toying with a plastic knife, passing it through his fingers “Last night we had a long discussion about Plato’s allegory of the cave. He’s intelligent, but foolishly optimistic about humanity. I don’t think he’ll last long”  
“The cave of the what now?” The puppet questioned in an irritated tone, but his partner spoke up.  
“D-DeSign is a very kind man. I think he’s in here by mistake…” His words got gruel and wooden puppet hands thrown at him.  
“Fuck off, puppet boy,” The scarred man barked “Innocent men don’t get chatty with killers. He ain’t even fucking scared! Anyone else notice that? I haven’t seen him flinch once. You seen him flinch, Crane?”  
“No, and trust me I have tried. I’ve asked overly personal questions and he’s answered playfully. I must say, it’s somewhat suspicious-”  
“Howzit feel havin’ a pretty little gay boy as your roomie and he ain’t even scared of ya?” Joker prodded his fellow rogue “Thought you were the god of fear or whatever”  
Jonathan sighed again. He did admittingly find his cellmate's lack of fear quite frustrating, but he also considered it a challenge. “And I thought you were a clown and yet you’re so abysmally boring.”  
The Joker lunged at the man, cackling as guards ran to tase the growing fight. DeSign looked over from his seat.  
“So rowdy, I hope I can handle them” He pouted, watching a guard fight the Joker back as he snapped at him with large teeth.  
“Handle them?” Jervis piped up, looking up at the red head with a curious look.  
“Right! I’m not supposed to say anything but I’ll tell you boys-” As DeSign whispered, Eddie immediately leaned in. He loved forbidden knowledge.  
“Because of my background and by the psychologists recommendation, the asylum has agreed to trial art therapy with me as the teacher”  
“Art therapy?” Eddie questioned loudly, hushing slightly when his companion motioned for him to tone it down “DeSign, we’re locked in with philistines - they’re not really going to enjoy drawing their horrid feelings-”  
“I’d like to draw my feelings”  
“I know, Jervis.”  
“Well I think it’s a great idea,” DeSign smiled, making the men around him smile - his mood was fairly infectious. “It’s good that this place is embracing new forms of therapy. We all know that those psychologists don’t give a shit, but I care”  
Eddie and Jervis blinked at each other before over at the other, speaking in unison. “...Why?”

\--

Within a week, DeSign had a good reputation with many inmates. His status as an innocent and kind man was strengthened - he was even found calmly talking to Killer Croc through his high security door. He called him Mister Jones and could maintain a longer conversation then anyone else was able to. No one knew what it was about him, but he was just likeable.

“Art therapy, huh?” Harvey looked at the sheet on the message board, reading it out. “Compulsory, headed by Vladimir Cotton,” He turned around and looked at Eddie “Who the fuck is Cotton?”  
“You two-toned dunce, that’s DeSign!” The ginger man snapped. Harvey growled, glaring at the other man before flipping his coin. Tails. He calmed down.  
“Why the fuck are they letting an inmate teach a class?”  
“It’s risky, but I think it’s an interesting idea,” Jonathan was checking the board for what new books were being introduced to the small asylum library “He’s an articulate and artistic man, and plenty of the filth here seem to like him, so I expect they will listen to him more than a stranger.”  
“They just like him cause they haven’t fucked a chick in years and that kid looks close enough like a woman to excite them”  
“Speaking from experience, Dent?” Jonathan smirked, causing Harvey to toss his coin once more. Heads.

The guards once again worked hard to break up the new fight, several men being sent back to their cells for the night bandaged up. Joker was sent to solitary confinement for the night after biting a man's ear off, his animalistic laughing echoing through the halls.  
“How do you feel, Doctor?” DeSign looked down from his top bunk at the frail man.  
“More inconvenienced than pained, DeSign,” He responded comfortably “So, art therapy, hm?”  
The physically younger man got down from his bunk and sat himself down by the others legs as he laid on his bed. Jonathan wasn’t used to such comfort from someone else, but he allowed it to continue out of curiosity - he believed that if the other got comfortable enough with him, he would let spill what atrocity he committed.  
“You excited for it, Doctor?” DeSign patted at the man's book “Or, slightly enthused, at least?”  
“It could be said that I’m curious”  
“Are you gonna cause any trouble?” He moved his hand to Jonathan's arm, causing the tall mans’ heart to skip a beat in a way that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The touch was warm on his cold skin, a gentle touch that he hadn’t experienced for many years.  
“Trouble? Now why would I ruin my cellmate's special experiment? I will merely observe for now” He smiled a toothy grin, the grip around his wrist causing him to lick his cracked lips. DeSign felt at the scars on his fingertips - deep and jagged ones on the top of the arm and straight and methodical ones on the wrist.  
“Thanks, Doctor. I really want to make a difference here”  
The hand easily wrapped around Jonathan’s entire slim wrist without feeling tight. Jonathan tried to ignore the feeling it grew in the pit of his stomach, turning his eyes back to his book but being unable to read. “You’re foolish, child, but I admire your naivety. Hopefully these monsters here won’t break you, it would be a shame for reality to catch up with you.”  
“Aww, you care about me, Doctor?” The words caught Jonathan’s breath in his throat for a second before he eventually pulled his arm out of the warm grip and rolled onto his side.  
“Goodnight, DeSign.”  
DeSign climbed back up the ladder to his bunk with a smile “Goodnight, Doctor.”

\--

The art room was an old electrotherapy room. The equipment had been removed but the memories remained for some inmates, creating an uneasy vibe as guards watched men walk in to take their seats. It was a large room, allowing decent distance between each inmate for safety sake.  
Mumbles echoed through the walls as DeSign trotted confidently to the front, standing aside an old wooden desk that certainly had been dragged out from storage after sitting alone for several years. There wasn’t a hint of nervousness on his face as he sat himself on the desk, the position making a few touch-starved men feel somewhat hot. The guards gave him a nod before closing the door behind them.  
“Eh?” Joker looked at the closed doors “No guards huh? That’s a little cocky”  
“There’s still security cameras you withered old fool” Eddie scoffed, straightening the allocated pencils on his desk.  
“The cocks in charge are curious to see if one man can keep us quiet, I assume” Harvey huffed, taking a pencil from Jervis so he had two. Jervis failed to notice.

“Okay boys, here’s the deal,” DeSign clapped his hands together to get everyone's attention, his leg crossed over the other bouncing slightly in a way that made him look like the teacher of a teenage boy's dreams “We’re going to do a self portrait. I know that’s a little tacky, but it’s a good way to show your true self,” He adjusted his muzzle, several eyes watching as he uncrossed and crossed his legs “You can use any medium and the piece doesn’t have to look like you. It doesn’t even have to be a person - it’s merely a representation of yourself.”  
Standing up, he still leaned back on the desk “Now, I believe that art should be lawless, but naturally given our position I have to lay down some rules that I have in fact been given permission to enforce,” Men groaned and booed, causing the one at the front to laugh “I know, I know, I’m sorry, but you knew it was coming. Firstly, no touching anyone else's work. Secondly, no negative comments on anyone else’s work. There’s no such thing as a bad artwork no matter what your opinion on the matter is.” He raised his hands with a nod “Now go on, get started. And- uh, please don’t start a fight”.

The men grumbled slightly but eventually started with the card-stock placed in front of them, paints, crayons and pencils laid out in the middle of the connected tables. DeSign walked around the room and answered questions.  
What should I draw?  
Is this right?  
How does this work?  
Two Face stole my pencil, can I steal it back?  
Can I not be next to Joker?

He answered the best he could, giving advice and compliments that made the men feel more comfortable with the activity. Soon, the inmates were talking about their pieces - most of them weren’t taking it seriously and were overall being crude, but it was a form of venting nonetheless. Placing his hand on the broad shoulder, DeSign looked down as Harvey painted half of the paper black “That’s quite good, Mister Two Face.” The two hadn’t spoken much, but the use of ‘mister’ along with the touch made him grip his paintbrush tightly. The large man glanced to his side, eyes gliding up the other’s thighs and hips before reaching his eyes. He gave a cocky smile “Thanks, I’m really tryin’ here.” The new teacher chuckled and gave the shoulder a pat before moving on.  
“Oh that’s very cute Mister Ventriloquist,” He bent over the physically older man to inspect the crayon drawing - it was him as a puppet and Scarface was the human holding him. “I’m getting a lot from this-” DeSign was cut off with a sound of surprise as a hard but small hand took advantage of his bent position, slapping him on the ass.

“C’mon gitch, why don’t you gark for me huh?” Scarface leered with a laugh, Arnold quickly taking his little hands in his own.  
“Mister Scarface that’s very rude! I’m so sorry DeSign, I-”  
“It’s okay,” He sat up straight and to everyone's surprise, calmly took hold of the puppet and lifted him up, talking directly to it. “Mister Scarface, I’m going to have to put you in the corner. If you aren’t going to contribute, I will not let you continue to distract Mister Ventriloquist from his therapy.” The dummy was limp but started to yell.  
“Eh! Put me down you little whore! C’mon I was just playin’ around! Gimme gack to that dummy, I don’t wanna go to the corner!” The yelling continued as he was gently placed in the corner, facing away from the crowd “You little gitch! When I’m out I’ll have you on a fuckin’ leash! I’ll shove the nozzle of my tommy gun right down your dirty little throat! I’ll-”  
“Mister Scarface.” The stern and cold voice made the puppet pause and some of the men around them shudder “If you do not keep quiet and let my class continue, I will have you sent back to your cell alone!”  
“Uh- I--” Arnold stuttered “Mister Scarface doesn’t do well without me…”  
“It’s okay, he’ll come back after class. Besides, you don’t want to get paint on him.” DeSign smiled, making the bashful man blush and nod. He truly hated being separated from his dear partner, but the way DeSign treated it - how he spoke to and treated the puppet like a real person, it made Arnold feel validated and as if this was the right thing for the situation. He had calmed down and while Scarface was mumbling, he was no longer yelling and causing a fuss.  
Inmates like Jonathan and Eddie were impressed that DeSign was able to face the tricky situation of Arnold and Scarface so well without any prior experience - more often than not, guards would grab the doll and throw it away, which would make the man panic.

\--

By the end of the class, many of the rogues were quite proud of their artworks, talking about them with those around with an excitable but not uncontrollable aura. Jervis had made a crayon piece of him as the Mad Hatter; Eddie had painted a simple realistic portrait; and Jonathan had used charcoal to sketch a scarecrow in a cornfield.  
DeSign took the pieces and pegged them to a display wire, the other rogues looking over to see what others had done.

“Which is your favourite?” Eddie questioned, feeling that his was the best artistically.  
“Hm..” DeSign stepped back and looked at the art on display, men behind him yelling about how theirs is the best and why he should pick it.  
“I don’t pick favourites, but I would like to point out Mister Zsasz’s”  
“Eh?? It’s just fucking cut up paper!” Joker shouted, motioning at his own piece “Look at how good I drew Pennywise!”  
“Mister Zsasz’s really represents himself. Using the back of a paint covered paintbrush to carefully tear tallies into the paper without completely destroying it, it shows restraint and that it was made out of care, not anger.”  
Victor beamed in his own strange way, his expression hard to read due to the lack of eyebrows. Men mumbled and argued for a bit before the doors opened and the guards ordered them to go back to the recreational hall.  
Harvey flipped his coin before grinning “Can I stay back with the teach for a couple of minutes? I wanna talk about art stuff - it’s really reaching a soul or whatever”  
A guard glanced at DeSign, who nodded “Sure, I don’t see why not.” There were still cameras along with an emergency button underneath the desk, not that DeSign felt he would need to use it.

The doors closed, DeSign now alone with the larger man as he faced his desk to organise some papers. “I’m really happy that the art has spoken to you, Mister Two Face-”  
His voice trailed off as Harvey used his body to press him hard against the desk. He could feel the scarred skin against his cheek as rough hands ran over his body “I’ll be honest kid, it wasn’t really the art that spoke to me”.  
Harvey’s large hands groped at DeSign’s chest before the burnt one trailed down, slipping in between the man's thighs.  
“...What are you going to do to me, Mister Two Face?”  
“God, I love how you call me that-” Harvey grunted, pressing his hips hard against DeSign’s ass and grinding. DeSign pressed his hands against the desk to keep himself up, allowing the man to touch him.  
“Would you stop if I asked?”  
“I’d have to flip for it”  
“Hm.” He thought as those hands forced his legs open. It would be easy for him to push the man off, to call out to the guards outside, or even to push the emergency button, but he decided against it - Harvey was already hard and well, DeSign could feel how big he was. 

Harvey forced his fingers through the wire of the muzzle, the receiver being able to take at least half their length into his mouth. DeSign ran his tongue over and around the digits as Harvey continued to grind against him “Your lips are so soft, I wish I could tear them up with my cock” He grunted, DeSign grinning against the fingers and gently trapping them in place with his teeth.  
“Oh, you’re a biter huh? Is that why the muzzle is there?” Breathing getting heavy, Harvey laughed and the teeth pressed down further before releasing.  
“Mmn, maybe~” He arched his back as Harvey bit at his neck, pawing at DeSign’s now hard cock through the orange pants. “Are you gonna fuck me, Mister Two Face?” His voice sounded like a soft purr that made Harvey kiss longingly at the delicate neck.  
“Fuck, I wish I could. I’d pound you so hard-” His cock was begging to be released, twitching against the fabric as he continued to grind “But believe it or not, the guards outside don’t exactly soothe me. You screaming my name would alert them pretty quickly.”  
DeSign grabbed the hand between his thighs, helping it as it rubbed him “I want you…”.  
The needy voice drove Harvey wild, biting down hard on the neck and sucking as DeSign ground his hips in between Harvey and the hand.  
“Mmn-- Ah--hnn…” DeSign whimpered and leaned his head back against the others’ shoulder, panting as he reached his climax in his pants. Hey, it had been a while for him, so he was a little sensitive and needy.  
The quick climax made Harvey laugh before removing his hand - wrapping it around the long red ponytail and pushing the smaller body down against the desk. He kept his hand there as he ground and rubbed faster.  
DeSign heard a quiet snap and clenched his jaw - it was his muzzle. The collision of his face with the hard wood - which he found to be quite rude of Mister Two Face, mind you - had broken a component. After coming, he had lost interest in the ordeal, hardly even noticing as Harvey grunted with a few more slow grinds before letting go and adjusting himself.  
“Fuck, you’re lucky it’s laundry night…” He tried to cover the wet patch on the front of his coveralls, eventually landing on the option of taking off the top half and tying the sleeves around his waist. DeSign stood up and rubbed his aching back, his other hand looking for the part of his mask that had snapped “I had a good time too, Mister Two Face” He was laughing, hardly tired.  
Still wet fingers hooked the mesh of the mask “Just you wait, Sweetheart. I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk. You’ll get hard just smelling me as I walk pass”  
The smaller man had to hold back a laugh at that - he hadn’t had that good of a time. He traced a finger down the white shirt “I can’t wait-”  
He had more to say, but had to quickly step back when the doors opened. A tried guard pointed out “C’mon, art talk is over. Back to your cells - there’s new jumpsuits and sheets on your beds, so remember to get your filthy shit ready for the wash basket.

\--

Back in his cell, DeSign was content.  
“Art therapy was fairly successful I’d say,” Jonathan was once again reading beneath him, not looking up from his page as he spoke “Good job, child. I’m surprised how calm the class was for the most part.”  
“Thanks Doctor. I’m so happy that everyone enjoyed themselves,” He was brushing his hair with his fingers before looking down over the edge of the bed, his long hair falling down as he looked at his cellmate “I really liked your piece, I could tell a lot from it”  
“Oh?” Jonathan chuckled, amused “And what might that be?”  
DeSign had been interested in rogues prior to his trial. He had read up on them, looking over reports and files and theories - it was what gave him the upper hand with them, a slight understanding of their behaviour giving him an advantage over going in blind.  
“Well, I think you grew up by that cornfield,” As he spoke, he descended the stairs and once again sat by the man on his bed “At first I thought that perhaps it was a source of comfort for you, especially considering how you’re the Scarecrow, but as you added colour I got a colder vibe. It was from a memory of dread. What happened to you in the cornfield?” He placed his hand on the bony knee as he looked Jonathan in the eyes.

Jonathan felt both panic and a certain warmth, too distracted to shake the hand off - not that he particularly wanted to. His mind went back to his youth, running from his Grandmother’s yard in a torn suit and deep into the cornfield. The scarecrow scared him, but not more than his guardian, curling around it and shaking as he stifled his cries so he wouldn’t be found.  
“Nothing. Nothing happened in the cornfield.” He spoke sternly and went back to his book, but the gentle stroking of his knee softened him slightly. The man had given up on physical intimacy before he even finished puberty, nor had he received it before that moment. The warm hand was something that he wasn’t used to, and he still wasn’t sure how he felt about it, but he continued to leave it. “You’re smart. I look forward to further art classes.” He avoided eye contact, but DeSign lowered the book and leaned in - the wire warm against the larger nose.  
“Doctor, can I tell you a secret?” Jonathan arched his eyebrow in interest. “I broke something off my mask. I think I could get it off if I picked at it.” He looked at the lips through the mask, never being that close to them. They were decently plump for a man, and looked particularly soft. Jonathan shifted where he laid.  
“Is it safe for the mask to come off, DeSign?” He traced a finger over the bands strapping the metal to the face, feeling that the action was accidentally a little too sensual. DeSign snapped his teeth at the finger.  
“Do you think I’m a danger, Doctor?”  
Of course he didn’t. Jonathan saw DeSign as completely harmless, almost believing the theory of him being in Arkham because of an accident - but there was still the issue of the doctors strongly suggesting that the muzzle was not removed. He stuck a finger through the wire squares, scraping a dirty nail against the soft skin. DeSign caught it between his teeth, but didn’t bite down hard - that would be gross.  
“Don’t be absurd, but I know there must be a reason for it. I can’t help but wonder what you’ve done with that mouth-” As soon as the words left his lips, he realised how it sounded - feeling his face burn hot as he quickly removed the hand.  
DeSign grinned, his hand squeezing the man's knee “Maybe one day you’ll find out, Doctor”.  
Jonathan cleared his throat before the redhead returned to his bunk, the guard outside announcing lights out.

\--

Several art classes passed with little incident, leading late into October as DeSign collected papers.  
“I heard that you guys usually get to wear costumes on Halloween, so I’ve been given the forms to hand out-” He held up a sheet and looked at it “Each person gets a page and is passed around, everyone adding and voting for recommendations. I’ve already added mine for everyone else.”  
He handed out the papers, the rogues already looking over each other’s shoulders and yelling as suggestions were scribbled - this was fairly normal for the class. While he did get jeered for some of his own heavily specific costume suggestions, it was all mostly playful.

Through the weeks, the inmates definitely felt comfortable with the man who used to be seen as just fresh meat. They felt they could tell him anything, some often catching him alone to discuss their problems. Even Scarface was calmer, although he still slapped his ass - Deep down, DeSign felt that it was Arnold playing through a fantasy, and he found that endearing.  
“Come on boys, we don’t have all day!” The teacher clapped his hands to encourage the criminals to speed up. Some men threw erasers at him, but it was all in jest, the redhead laughing as all shots missed.

Taking longer than it should have, DeSign was finally able to collect the sheets. There were a lot of suggestions on his own, but he was yelled at when he tried to read it.  
“No! Let it be a surprise!” Jervis piped up from his baby booster seat.  
“Yeah Des, we worked hard to keep you in the dark.” Eddie whined, putting on a fake sad face that caused the other to smile.  
“That’s extremely suspicious, but I do love a surprise...” DeSign noted, putting his sheet into the pile without investigating it further.  
The crowd cheered in a way that made DeSign feel that he made a mistake.

\--

On the morning of Halloween after their showers, the men looked into their lockers to find their chosen costumes - being instructed to go to their cells to put them on so it’s a surprise for the rest when they enter the rec room for their traditional cheap Halloween party.

Jonathan looked through the blank packaging to try and sus out what his costume was, but he already knew. The men always picked that same thing for most of the other inmates, but that wouldn’t stop him from hoping for a change.

“Hm, not feeling confident about the fabric choice” DeSign murmured as he caught a glimpse in the bag, the door to their cell closed behind them.  
Jonathan glanced at him in interest “Oh? Well, open it up.” He focused on the man as he opened his costume package, revealing his well known Wizard of Oz Scarecrow costume. “God dammit, every time.”  
As DeSign noticed the costume, he let out a soft giggle. “Cute! Although quite unoriginal. I’d like to see you in something sharper,” He shimmied his shoulders with a wink “Show a little more skin.”  
“I don’t think I will.” The thin man laid his costume out as DeSign climbed the ladder of the bunk bed. “Hm? Getting dressed up there?”  
“I don’t want a pervy old man to watch me,” As if hearing Jonathan’s eyes roll, he added “Just kidding, Doctor. You know I’m shy~” The man was not shy.

The Scarecrow costume didn’t come with a mask, but Jonathan always refused to apply the provided makeup. They just weren’t his colours, plus he didn’t have a mirror. He would, however, admit that he liked the hat.  
“God-” Jonathan looked up at the bottom of the bunk above him, hearing a slight struggle.  
“Having a hard time?”  
“It’s just a little tight-” The words made Jonathan feel excited to see the end product, unsure if the feeling grew or shrunk when he saw the muzzle drop to the floor. It was on for a reason….

As DeSign climbed down the ladder, the first thing the other man noticed was legs. Dense fishnets clung tightly around the thick thighs. The more the costume was revealed, the hotter Jonathan felt - eventually finding himself staring at his cellmate in a tight latex nun costume. His hips and waist were defined, and the broadness of his chest came close to looking like cleavage in the chest window of the dress.  
“This is ridiculous, but I’m not surprised.” DeSign sighed, struggling a little to bend over as he picked up the mask “I finally managed to get it off! I kept a little pin though so I can put it back on when guards are around…. Doctor?” He looked at the man and trotted over, sitting on the bed as usual. “You’re awfully quiet - scared that my mask is off? Think I’ll take a little bite?”  
“Don’t be absurd--” The man choked, eyeing the dark bruise on the other’s face where the muzzle used to sit - the purple ring bringing attention to the painted red lips. 

DeSign noticed, placing a hand once again on the man’s knee - the scarecrow costume a little itchy due to the cheap fabric. He leaned in and gnashed his teeth with a grin and Jonathan felt his breath hitch.  
“It’s… an interesting costume.” He forced out, not wanting to stay silent in the moment. His eyes wandered to the exposed thighs - the tight costume riding up due to the sitting position. Once again, DeSign noticed. He leaned in more, hand trailing up the slender thigh.  
“Do you like my costume, Doctor?” His dress rode up further as he leaned in, Jonathan sweating as he was able to see right up it. It had been years since he had thought about someone else's body, and not once had he considered the anatomy of another man.  
There had been moments in his life when he had sat on his own hand, numbing it to create the illusion of someone else touching him. However, that was nothing compared to the rush he felt as DeSign’s delicate hand slowly traced over his crotch.  
He shuddered, but still looked deep into the man's eyes - looking for any hint of the actions being a cruel prank. All he found was hunger.

It took the wandering hand to grab him for the man to finally give in, closing the gap between them and roughly smashing their lips together. It was intense and messy, screaming inexperience, but DeSign loved it. The middle aged man smelt of old books and dust, his face heating up as the nun straddled him and forced him down onto the bed. He let his fingers slide up the tight hemline, looking up as the kiss was broken.  
“Aren’t I… a little old for you?” The hands slid up those hips and hooked around the underwear beneath.  
DeSign chuckled, sitting up and leaning forward as his panties were pulled down “Oh Doctor, you’d be surprised”. Cold hands reached up the dress again and grabbed at the rather plump ass, a stifled groan coming out of the scarecrow as the nun ground down against him.  
Jonathan was already hard - in fact, he had most likely been hard since he first saw the full costume. There was something about it, the blasphemy of it all - it appealed to Jonathan in a way he could have never predicted. Raised a strict Catholic, the man knew that his Grandmother would be rolling in her grave if she knew what he was doing - well, that is if she had a grave.

As DeSign ground against the other, he gauged the man’s size - it didn’t really feel that big, and Jonathan was older so it might not even work all that well, if it had ever been used for such a purpose before. The cold hands warmed up slightly as they pushed the dress up DeSign’s hips, revealing his lower half. Once again, Jonathan had never even considered the possible attraction to men, but looking at the soft body excited him - it looked flawless, like it couldn’t possibly be real, and yet he was able to touch it. He was able to run his nails over the hot skin and watch as it caused it’s owner to moan. He was able to grip those hips tightly, pressing up against them from beneath and causing the man to writhe. He couldn’t hold back any more - 30 long years of sexual frustration took over him as he rushed forward, sitting up and kissing the man passionately once more before he used what little strength he had along with taking DeSign by surprise to swap their positions - pinning the redhead to the bed and kissing him again. DeSign was taken aback by the boldness, only getting more excited as the man practically ripped off his underwear and threw it to the side.

“Doctor-” DeSign licked at his messy lips, looking up at his cellmate and inspecting the red lipstick around his mouth and teeth. He toyed with the straw sticking out of the costume, sticking a finger through the hole “What do you want to do to me, Doctor?”  
Jonathan ran his hands hungrily over DeSign’s body “If I can’t make you scream from fear, I’ll have to make you scream from something else,” He slipped his fingers underneath the window to the chest, pulling at it to inspect more of the man’s skin. Doing so revealed several large, purple marks on the olive skin.  
Hickies.  
The doctor traced them with a fingertip, giving DeSign a questioning look with a spark of anger. He had heard of the man’s… run-ins with other inmates, although he didn’t particularly believe them all. He couldn’t help but wonder who’s mouth had tasted the sweet flesh - had it been Harvey? Perhaps a guard? Maybe even Zsasz, who had taken interest after DeSign continued to compliment his art? Jealousy shot through Jonathan as he continued to trace the bruises with a chipped nail, only stopping when DeSign ran his hand sensually up his arm and looked him in the eyes.  
“I don’t need them anymore, Doctor. I have you now”  
The words made the man shudder and without even considering the consequences, he leaned down and planted his lips right in between the other’s pecs. He sucked harshly, letting his teeth sink into the skin as he essentially marked his territory. DeSign groaned with a smile, the bite breaking skin but not bleeding “Ah-- I’m all yours, Doctor… will you punish me for what I’ve done?”  
Jonathan pulled away to admire his mark - his ring of teeth around a bright red mark already turning dark. He licked his lips “Hm… I think I will. Roll over,” DeSign happily obliged, hugging the pillow beneath him as he arched his back. The greying man studied what had been presented to him, unbuttoning his pants to take out his cock before immediately pushing in. He knew what lubricant was, but at that moment he felt that DeSign didn’t deserve the relief - opting to instead enter the man completely dry and without warning. DeSign called out with surprise before quickly muffling himself with the pillow, groaning as he pushed back against Jonathan’s sharp hips. They couldn’t risk being loud and they couldn’t take their time, Jonathan knowing that guards would be around to take them to the rec room soon. For once, the physically older man’s inability to last was going to come in handy as he immediately started to thrust into the younger body. DeSign whimpered into the pillow, tears forming in the corner of his eyes as pleasure sparked through his small body.  
Jonathan leaned in as he continued to thrust, pushing the habit headdress to the side and nestling his face into the nook of his neck. His hot breath hit the other’s face and their bodies pressed together, DeSign trying his best not to loudly moan his partner’s name.

DeSign came pretty quickly, overwhelmed by the strange fantasy of being dominated by his mature cellmate that he had held since just a few days after being admitted to the asylum. He could tell that Jonathan was also close judging by his now heavy breathing and non rhythmic thrusting.  
“Doctor…. Don’t finish inside me or I’ll have to go to the party like that…”  
“Hm, don’t tempt me-” Jonathan grinned breathlessly, his partner whining in response. He didn’t want to pull out - he wanted to fill the nun up and watch as his seed slowly dripped down his legs as he stood. He wanted to go against the man’s words and push the boundaries of the blossoming relationship, but he knew that now wasn’t particularly the right time. So instead, he pulled out with a grunt.  
“Turn around again.” He ordered, his southern drawl sounding almost annoyed. DeSign did so - mascara staining his cheeks and lipstick everywhere.  
He opened his mouth wide and stuck out his tongue, eyes begging for Jonathan to enter. Jonathan, however, didn’t have the energy for that; instead shifting and seating himself on the redheads chest and finishing himself off with his hand. He had aimed for the open mouth, but didn’t particularly land the shot.  
DeSign grinned and licked his lips - it admittedly didn’t taste good, but he didn’t mind considering who it was from. “You messed up my makeup, Doctor”  
Old bones creaked as the man got off the other’s chest “I think it adds to the look,” A skinny finger trailed down the flushed cheek, wiping some of the cum into the awaiting mouth. He never knew that such a messy look could appeal to him “Just look at you… so messy. I wish I could take a photo.”  
Sharp teeth clenched down around the finger in his mouth, leaving marks before letting go “You don’t have to take a photo, you can see this whenever you want.”  
That was music to the scarecrow’s ears, the reality of the situation finally settling in. Out of all the other men locked up with them, DeSign had chosen him - was it out of pity? Convenience? Or did the redhead really feel a connection between the two? The man didn’t feel fear, but the idea of questioning it made him somewhat nervous, as if talking about it would sour their relationship.

Getting up and collecting toilet paper from the cell’s shared toilet, Jonathan gave his awaiting lover the material to clean himself up with - watching in an almost voyeuristic manner as DeSign wiped at his face and between his own thighs. Without the proper oil, he couldn’t completely get off all the makeup, instead choosing to reapply it sloppily to add to the look.  
As he put his muzzle back on, Jonathan pressed up against him from behind, hands stroking his thighs before they helped to pull the dress back down.  
“What about my underwear?” DeSign questioned, looking around the cell. Guards could be heard opening doors.  
“No time for that, child.”

\--

The Halloween party was, as per usual, tame and boring. Each rogue was allowed 2 alcoholic drinks for the night, and they were only weak ciders. Many of the activities they had once done had been banned due to the Joker’s ability to make them somehow lethal, so the event was more so just a regular recreational hangout like every day but in costume. It had the vibe of an office party but your co-workers were known for atrocities.  
DeSign’s costume was much appreciated, many hands of dangerous men feeling at the glossy latex blatantly - already drunk from moonshine provided by an easily bribed guard. The youngest inmate revelled in the attention, letting men tug at his habit and trace fingers over the large bruise on his chest. Halloween, along with New Years and Christmas, was one of the holidays that allowed the inmates to let loose - guards hardly watching them through monitors rather than in person. This, along with the alcohol, gave many of the men confidence to shoot their shot with the prized criminal.  
Jonathan seethed with jealousy, feeling as though their moment had been just a fleeting feeling until he watched as DeSign slapped Harvey’s overly excited hands out of the way. The two-toned man growled and became persistent, a harsh jab to the gut and the gnashing of pearly whites the only things to make him pause in confusion and pain. DeSign took his chance to trot off into the crowd, giggling slightly and running into Jonathan.  
The man grabbed the other’s arms “Fooling around, I see” He seemed angry, leading DeSign to a private area around the corner.  
“Jealous, Doctor?” DeSign stumbled as he was pinned to the wall.  
“I thought you were mine,” Hands ran down the slick fabric, reaching the hem and slipping underneath “That you didn’t need anyone else”  
“I’m just teasing. I won’t let them touch me like you do” He rocked his hips forward, leaning against the wall with a crooked smile, gasping as his dress was lifted and his hips were tightly grasped.  
Jonathan leaned forward and kissed the man’s covered neck “I don’t want them soiling your beautiful body with their disgusting hands. They don’t deserve to even smell you, let alone feel you,” His nail dug into the sensitive flesh “I want to be the only one to taste you from now on”. The possessive nature of the man was quite expected, and DeSign found it exciting - he felt that this man would fight for his love, possibly even kill for it.  
“You should let them all know that I’m yours. Let them know what you’ll do if they challenge you” DeSign had a spark of mischief in his eyes - a spark that Jonathan wasn’t sure about. Was it a good idea to announce the relationship so early? Or even at all? “If I change my behaviour, they’ll get suspicious.”  
“Just how many other men have you slept with?”  
“None,” The nun’s delicate hands pressed against the scarecrow’s torso “I’ve let them use me to release, but none have entered me.”  
Jonathan pulled the dress back down and studied the man’s body, thinking the situation over and over in his mind. He eventually responded after a long pause “...let them touch you. Tease them. Torture them. Then leave them hard.”  
“Does that make you feel good? Me blue balling everyone else?”  
“I will admit that I get some satisfaction from the idea. They all want you, but you want me, yes?” While it wasn’t intended, the question came across as pathetic. DeSign wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, pressing his muzzle to his lips.  
“I only want you, Doctor”.

\--  
As the party came to an end, all the men could barely walk; disgruntled guards trying their best to escort them to their cells. Just like always, a riot broke out and in just a few minutes the recreation room was a mess.  
Some rogues were successfully dragged away, including DeSign. A particularly large guard who had often picked on him specifically had his arm in a tight grip - taser in the other hand.  
“Mn, don’t pull! I’ll walk willingly,” the inmate complained, words slightly slurring “C’mon Mister Bolton, I don’t care about the fight out there.”  
Lyle Bolton didn’t respond, pulling DeSign past his cell.  
“Eh? Mister Bolton… you missed my cell”  
The guard continued to walk in stern silence, his victim starting to struggle in his grasp. It was hard to keep up in heels, and DeSign was too drunk to overpower the man in uniform.  
“What are you going to do, Mister Bolton? I’ve been good-”  
“Good?” The man finally barked, tossing the smaller body into an empty high security cell - the muzzle falling off in the process. The door slammed behind them and DeSign struggled to get to his knees. “I’ve seen you parading yourself around, Cotton. Other inmates after art therapy, behind corners, in the fucking bathroom. You’re disgusting, passing yourself around, even letting Crane have a piece? You deserve nothing more than an old, washed up psycho like him.” He was spitting as he spoke, veins popping out in rage as he firmly grabbed the top of DeSign’s head - unbuckling his belt.  
“If you’re just giving yourself out to these men, I may as well take my piece.”

\--

The riot was stopped by a loud, echoing scream - thick walls not even dampening the agony as it reached those in the rec hall. Grins spread across sadistic faces as the screaming continued, even Jonathan enjoying the utter fear he could hear in the voice. But who did it belong to?

Clacking down the hall grew louder as the scream grew weak, a man running back to the open area in little black heels.  
DeSign had a large grin on his face, sans mask. His lips and teeth were stained with the cherry blood - practically spilling out of his mouth and sliding off the latex of his dress. He stumbled as a guard tased him, the electricity causing him to fall to his knees and laugh maniacally.  
Jonathan watched with interest as the man crumbled right at his feet, spitting up blood and giggling up at him. He rested his bloodied cheek on the burlap covered thigh, the scarecrow studying his intense and wet eyes.  
Just as the questions started, guards inspecting the scream started to cry out and make a fuss.  
“His dick!! He bit off his fucking dick!!!”  
“Get the doctor, he’s bleeding out!!”  
“Clean off!!”  
“How did his mask come off? Did no-one tell Bolton why he was in here??”  
“Put that thing on ice!!”

Eyes trailed from the hall to the man kneeling and giggling on the floor, mouths agape. Several men shifted uncomfortably, seemingly guarding their privates from the unmuzzled man. Harvey held his fingers cautiously, thinking about all the times he had shoved them past the wire and into the awaiting mouth.  
DeSign looked up at Jonathan and licked his lips, a blood soaked hand running up the man’s thigh.  
“Are you scared of me, Doctor?”  
Jonathan cleared his throat, pondering the situation for a moment before trailing a finger over the bloody jawline - lifting the head up by his chin.  
“Don’t be absurd.”


End file.
